


The Reluctant Protector

by Paige242



Category: Charmed (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-11 06:15:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15966407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paige242/pseuds/Paige242
Summary: After another family tragedy, Chris is forced to deal with his new fate. (Changed Future. Chris-Centric)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I wish we were getting as a Charmed Spin-Off. A Chris-Centric next generation story (which, I hope, is not as annoying as some such stories!)  
> Please Review :)

The warm light of the setting sun did not help to ease the mood in the Halliwell manor that evening.

Nothing could have lifted the spirits of those inside on a day like this.

Chris watched as the orange glow filtered through the stained glass of the sun room, casting a beautiful haze. Usually, he was not the most observant of people, and he probably wouldn’t have noticed the slow advance of the light. But today, he was looking for any distraction from what was going on around him.

They had buried his Aunt Phoebe that day.

His beautiful, energetic, vibrant Aunt Phoebe, who had been taken from them in an instant less than a week ago. The demon had come so fast, and his attack had been swift—no spell, potion or healing could have brought her back. Her sisters had watched her crumble, and Chris could still remember their anguished screams from the other room.

Those screams rang in his head every night as he tried to drift into a restless sleep.

He and Wyatt had been next on the scene, and they had seen her body—already cold and lifeless—on the floor. Together, they had kept the demon at bay, and the four had managed a spell to banish him from the house. But the irreversible damage had been done.

Phoebe was gone. The power of three was broken.

And the Halliwell family was in shambles.

Chris knew that this was not the first time his mother had lost a sister. He had grown up with many stories of his Aunt Prue and they had even managed to summon her a few times in recent years. But that, of course, did not lessen the blow in any way. His mom was the last of the original sisters now. Everyone she had grown up with was now gone, and he could see the indescribable pain on her face.

Piper Halliwell may have been a tough, kick-ass witch but she could still be broken.

It was hard for the young man to see. He knew that he was helpless and could do nothing to ease her pain.

His father was currently holding her as she sobbed on the couch and a red-eyed Paige had her arm around Uncle Coop’s slouched form.

Chris was not afraid to admit that he had done his fair share of crying too, but he was currently attempting to keep it together for the sake of the others. He’d somehow managed to make a basic dinner that evening, and he had spent over an hour with his arms around his cousin Prue as heart-wrenching sobs had racked her body.

As hard as it was to lose the Aunt he had loved dearly, he knew that he was not the one suffering the most that day. His heart broke for Prue, Parker and Peyton—his cousins were all still teens, and they had already faced unimaginable loss.

He had watched them all go through a variety of states that week. From numb with shock, to overcome with grief. The young man had done his best to be there for them but, once again, he knew that there was little he could do.

Nothing could make this easier for them, and the pain would never go away.

Closing his eyes, Chris searched for the three and let out a sigh of relief as he sensed them together in the attic. They had left the rest of the family in the living room a short time ago, and Peyton had mumbled something about needing space.

No one had stopped them, of course, but Chris (being the protective older cousin that he was) could not help himself from checking on their whereabouts every few minutes. He wouldn’t have blamed them if they went on some sort of grief-stricken rampage, but the logical part of his brain knew that it would not be wise in their current state. The best way he could help, and honour his Aunt Phoebe, he figured, was to make sure that her girls stayed safe—and that was what he was determined to do.

“I think I’ll go clean up the kitchen.” Wyatt mumbled as he slowly rose from the chair on Chris’ left. The younger brother nodded. It was probably best not to leave all of those barely-eaten plates of food out over night.

He contemplated helping, but Melinda beat him to it as she silently followed their oldest sibling towards the kitchen.

As he watched his brother and sister disappear from sight, he could not help an unwanted thought from crossing his mind. Now that Aunt Phoebe was gone, and the power of three was broken, their family was more vulnerable then they had been in a long time. His mother and Aunts had done so much to protect them over the years, and he wondered if this horrible event was a signal that it was time for the younger Halliwells to step up to the plate.

Like his mother, Chris had always wanted a normal life and (understanding his impulse) she had often said that she would fight for him to have that chance. But, like it or not, the young man knew that he would never be normal. In fact, as a witch and a whitelighter, he was far less normal than even his mother and his chances at a magic-lite existence seemed slim. And now, despite his own desires, part of him wanted nothing more than to protect his family from further pain. He had never been the strongest fighter, but maybe if they could hone their skills, they could take the burden off of his mother and Aunt Paige as they dealt with their loss.

The sisters had done more than their share to protect the world.

They had suffered enough.

Perhaps it was their turn now.

With a deep sigh, Chris redirected his gaze to the orange beam of light on the floor. He hated that he was thinking about demon fighting at a time like this. But, even though he knew they all needed a break, things were never that easy for the Halliwells. In fact, he though with a scowl, the underworld would probably be sending a stream of attackers after them now that they were weak and mourning.

There was nothing fair about it but there was also nothing they could do. Like it or not, they were the world’s strongest magical family and they would always be targets.

Unable to dwell on that thought any longer, Chris looked around for any mundane distraction. After a moment, his eyes fell on the grandfather clock and he mindlessly watched the pendulum swing back and forth beneath the glass.

One, two, three.

His eyes traced the ornate patterns on the round piece of metal as it moved in its repetitive motion.  He willed himself to be hypnotized by it. As dull as it was, anything was better than focusing on what was going on around him.

He wanted his mind to drift away.

Ten, eleven, twelve.

The young man began to feel the calming effects on his body until a very sudden and unanticipated buzzing sound suddenly broke him from his trance.

He jolted into an upright position and quickly looked around the room. He had no idea what had caused the loud and unpleasant noise but a quick look at his family seemed to indicate that no one else had heard it.

His father caught his eye for a moment, clearly confused by his sons’ odd convulsion, and Chris did his best to keep his expression calm. The last thing he wanted to do was worry anyone else at a time like this.

As discreetly as he could, the young man slowly stood up from his seat and walked into the hallway without giving his relatives another glance. The sound had been so sharp—painful even—and the effects were still vibrating in his head and he stumbled down onto the bench in the manor’s entryway before finally letting out a long breath.

Perhaps it was just some sort of weird physical effect of his exhaustion and grief. Chris had always loved science and was currently excelling in his pre-med program at SFU. He knew that the human body was capable of many strange things, especially when under pressure, and he tried to let himself be reassured by the thought.

Then again, an unwelcomed voice in the back of his head reminded him, he wasn’t exactly human…

Before he could contemplate it further, the sound intensified again. His head was consumed by it and he was vaguely reminded of the feeling of a dentists’ drill. He raised his hands to massage his temples and gave a quiet groan as the pain slowly subsided.

He had never felt anything like this before, and his mind raced as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

Perhaps the demons were coming for them even sooner than he had thought. They were relentless, after all, and they would probably revel in kicking the Halliwells while they were down.

But of all the days, he had hoped that they would at least get some reprieve from the usual magical mayhem.

As he tried to calm himself with more slow breaths, he contemplated orbing up to the attic to see if the book had any insight. He could sense that his cousins were still there, however, and he really wanted to give them the space they needed. They had just buried their mother. They did not need him bursting in with a magical crisis.

He racked his brain, trying to think of any demon that was capable of this sort of thing. Barbas, maybe? He certainly enjoyed messing with them in subtle ways.

“Chris?”

The young man looked up to see his father quietly approaching. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he had not even heard the man’s footsteps and his heart had jumped slightly at the sudden sound of his voice.

“Oh, hey dad.” He replied, doing his best to regain his composure.

Leo looked tired, and his eyes were lined with red, but he still did his best to give his son a warm smile before sitting next to him on the bench.

There was a brief pause before the older man spoke.

“Are you okay?” His father questioned as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.

Chris shrugged, not wanting to trouble his dad with the strange noise he had just started hearing. Leo had enough to worry about and Chris was determined to figure things out for himself.

“I’m okay as I can be, considering the circumstances.” He replied, looking down at the old wooden floor.

Leo have his shoulder a light squeeze before letting his arm drop to his side. Chris could tell that there was something on his father’s mind and he waited nervously for the man to speak again.

“Back there…” Leo began, tilting his head in the direction of the sun room. “You seemed to get a fright all of a sudden.”

Chris silently cursed his father for being so damn observant. The man was a whitelighter, after all, and he had always been good at picking up on subtle things.

“Did something happen?”

The young man began to wave his hand dismissively but, before he could summon a proper response, the unwanted buzz surged through his head once again. Despite his best efforts, he could not suppress a wince of pain and he instinctively clutched his temples.

As it faded, he quickly recomposed himself and looked back towards his father with worry in his green eyes.

It was not reassuring to see a similar expression on the older man’s face. Chris knew that he could not deny what was going on.

“I…just in the last few minutes…this terrible noise keeps ringing in my head. It’s so intense that it almost hurts.” The boy paused, trying to quash is growing anxiety. “I have no idea what is going on. Why me? Why today? I swear to god if some demon…”

“It’s not a demon, Chris.” His father cut in, halting his sentence. The older man ran a hand though his greyish blonde hair as he let out a troubled sigh. “I can’t believe…I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” Chris asked, still confused. Apparently, his father knew what was going on but the young man was still in the dark.

There was a tense pause.

“It’s the elders.”

Chris felt his blood run cold as the simple statement left his father’s lips.

His mind raced as he tried to come to terms with what this meant. Although he was half-whitelighter, he had grown up sharing his mother’s annoyance with the powers that be. They always seemed to intervene when it was least convenient, and their arrogance rubbed him the wrong way. He hated feeling like they were their puppets and the crap that they had put his parents through over the years was enough to churn his stomach. He knew that, in their eyes, he shouldn’t even exist. He’d always hoped that they would leave him alone.

Why the hell would they decide to bother him on a day like this?

And what the hell did they want?

“The elders?” Chris managed to choke out, his mouth open in disbelief. “You’re telling me that those sadistic bastards have decided to torture me on the day of my Aunt’s funeral? Of all the messed up, stupid…”

“Chris, please.” His father cut in gently, placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder once more. “I know you don’t like them, and I know the timing is terrible, but they are only working for the greater good. And, despite what you may think, they don’t choose when our destinies unfold. They’re simply there to guide us when they do.”

Chris scowled. He had heard similar statements from his father before, and he knew that the man understood better than most. He had been one of them for a period and Chris could remember all the drama that had occurred almost a decade ago when they had unclipped his wings and reassigned him as the Charmed One’s whitelighter.

His mother had been furious, of course. But his father had accepted it in stride, explaining that nothing could be done to fight the will of the universe.    

 A sudden, and worrying, thought crossed the young man’s mind. “Is this the sound you heard when they summoned you back to whitelighter duty?” Chris asked, looking towards his father.

The older man paused, clearly thinking back to that time. “Is it sort of like a loud buzz? That vibrates in your head, almost like a dentists’ drill?”

Chris felt his stomach plummet as he listened to his father’s adept description.

“Yes.” He whispered, trying to ignore his growing nausea as the implications began to sink in. “But this can’t be happening. They can’t make me be a whitelighter. Aunt Phoebe is gone, I need to focus on helping mom and Aunt Paige. I don’t want this. I can’t do this. I’m not one of them.”

Chris knew that he was rambling, but he didn’t care. He could feel a panic spreading through his body and he desperately tried to think of a way to get himself out of their terrible situation. His mother would be so disappointed in him—she supported his drive for a normal life and had been helping him plan excitedly plan for medical school. Magic had already taken so much from her. She wouldn’t want a whitelighter for a son. A call from the elders could throw everything off track.    

It would make everything worse than it already was.

“I can’t.” Chris repeated, his voice breaking.

He could hear his father draw a deep breath beside him and he looked over to see the deep guilt and regret in the man’s eyes.

“You were born a whitelighter, Chris. There is nothing you can do. Nothing I can do. It’s my fault, and I’m so incredibly sorry.”

“No, Dad—”

His sentence was cut off by a fresh wave of head-shaking pain and Chris let out another anguished moan.  This time, it seemed even more intense then before.

He wondered how bad those bastards would let it get.

One thing was for certain, he could not live like this. Something had to be done.

As the sound subsided, the young man drew a shaky breath and stood up from his spot. His anger had not abated, but his face was not set with determination.

“I’m going up there.” He declared, doing his best to steady himself. “I’m going to tell them that I am not their pawn and that this has to stop. Now.”

Leo looked ready to say something in response, but instead he simply nodded and gave a soft “okay.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No” he replied, determined to fight his own battles. “You stay with mom. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Chris continued, glancing back towards the sunroom where the rest of the family had (thankfully) remained. “If mom asks, tell her I went for a walk to clear my head.”

His father nodded again and, with one final breath, Chris allowed the world to dissolve into heavenly blue.


	2. Chapter 2

When Chris rematerialized, he had expected to find himself in the main chambers. That’s what he had been aiming for, after all, and Christopher Halliwell had had always been accurate with his orbing.

But, much to his surprise, he found himself in a room he had never seen before. The pure white décor told him he was definitely in the heavens, but this was not a place he was used to seeing. For a brief, blissful second he thought that he was alone, but the sound of a pointed cough quickly told him otherwise.

The young man turned to see a row of ten elders, all seated on ornate golden thrones on the other side of the chamber.

He recognized most of them (unfortunately), and his face hardened as he attempted to stare them down. Now that he was here, he was more determined than ever not to relent.

“Christopher.” A grey bearded man who he knew as Maxwell stated, offering the young man a polite nod. “Please, step a bit closer.”

Chris wanted to protest, but he figured that it would be easier to tell them off if he did move forward and he reluctantly obliged. He took a few steps to the centre of the room before looking back up at the ten so-called angels, his eyes narrowed with anger and resolve.

“I’m not here to answer your call.” He stated firmly, wanting to make his intentions clear right off the bat. “I only came to tell you that you need to leave me, and my family, alone.”

He watched, satisfied, as a few of the elders exchanged worried looks. Perhaps this would be easier than he had assumed.

“We’ve already sacrificed so much for the greater good.” He continued, his confidence growing as he spoke. “Two of my aunts have now made the ultimate sacrifice, and enough is enough. My family has suffered more than their fair share. I can’t believe that you actually had the nerve to call me here today, of all days. But at least this has given me the opportunity to tell you to leave us the hell alone!”

Silence hung in the air, and Chris prayed that his plea had made it though their thick skulls.

After a moment, one of the female elders spoke.

“Are you finished, Christopher?” Sandra asked. If he didn’t know better, he would have interpreted her expression as one of sympathy. But he doubted they had any compassion for the affairs of mere mortals.

Chris hesitated.

“I don’t know.” He replied, crossing his arms in front of him. “I guess that depends on whether or not you are willing to do what’s right.”

Sandra gave him a sad smile before Maxwell began to speak again.

“We understand that this may not feel right to you, especially now, but please know that we are all fighting for the same cause.” The elder stated calmly. Too calmly for Chris’ taste. “We do not decide your fate, we are simply here to guide you when the time comes. We feel your loss and sympathize with your pain—but even the loss of a Charmed One cannot stop the universe from pushing forward.”

Chris snorted, his arms still stubbornly crossed. “Okay, whatever.” He remarked with a trademark roll of his eyes. “How about I leave you guys here to talk about your cryptic destiny crap while I get back to my grieving family. In peace.”

Hoping that they had gotten the message, Chris closed his eyes to orb—only to realize, much to his displeasure, that his power had been blocked.

Eyes flashing with rage, he glared at the council. “Let me go.” He demanded.

Sandra shook her head sympathetically. “We can’t, Chris.” She stated. “The wheels are already in motion and you cannot leave until we talk to you about your new charges.”

Chris’ stomach flopped. Apparently, his pleas had fallen on deaf ears after all.

He should have known.

“Charges!?” He exclaimed, his voice wrought with more emotion than he had intended. “No way. I’m not a whitelighter and I am certainly not your lacky.”

None of the elders flinched at his protests.

“You have been a whitelighter for twenty-three years.” Sandra began again, his voice just as steady as before. “And now it is time for you to follow in your father’s footsteps.”

The young man scoffed once more and threw up his arms in frustration. Talking to them was like talking to a brick wall. But, thankfully, he was not one to back down from a fight.

“I know that’s not my destiny.” He protested, his eyes still narrowed. “And I know my father does not want that for me either. Like I said, we have all sacrificed enough already and we deserve to be left alone! I am going to medical school next year, and my siblings and cousins are going to follow whatever paths they choose too. My mom and Aunt Paige have lost too much and, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave them alone. End of story.”

There was another long pause as several of the elders exchanged more annoying glances. Chris had to fight to keep himself from shouting with frustration.

“As much as we wish evil would relent, you know that things are not that simple.” Another elder noted as he leaned back in his golden chair.   

Sandra spoke again. “Trust me, I wish your family could have a break from all of this—but plans to strike while you are weak are already brewing in the underworld. We need to move forward before you all pay an even greater price.”

“Find someone else to fight your battles.” Chris shot back, trying to ignore his growing sense of worry. Truth be told, he had suspected that similar demon activity might be afoot. Like it or not, it was probably only a matter of days before they would have to summon the strength to fight again.

But that did not mean he had to become a pawn of the elders.

“I’m only a half-breed.” The young man pointed out, his eyes falling on a few of the elders who he knew disapproved of his very existence. Surely they did not want him here either. “I’m sure there is a real whitelighter out there that will be keen to do your bidding. But it’s not me.”

Maxwell leaned forward this time, a hand stroking his long bead. “We have watched you grow Christopher.” He noted with another faint smile. “You have mastered every whitelighter power and there is no one more qualified than you for the task at hand. Please, just hear us through.”

“Fine. Clip my wings if that’s what it takes.” He shot back before the elder could continue.

Several of those present looked mortified by the thought and Sandra rapidly shook her head.

“That would kill you, Chris.” She stated, clearly unsettled by the thought.

Surprised, the young man stared at the council, his mouth open in disbelief. “Kill me?” He managed to stutter, his mind rushing to think of an explanation for that. “How? You’ve clipped my father’s wings before, and that didn’t kill him. That doesn’t make any sense. This is clearly another one of your lies.”

“It’s not a lie.” Sandra replied quickly, her tone laced with seemingly genuine pity. “Regular whitelighters, including your father, were human once. Mortal. When their wings are clipped they are able to revert to that state. But you,” she paused, drawing a breath. “You were born this way. You have no other way of being that you can revert to. Clipping your wings would be the equivalent of tearing you in two. You may be half human, but you can’t survive your other half being ripped away.”

If there had been an empty chair nearby, Chris would have stumbled into it.  It took all of his strength to remain steady on his feet.

Of course he had know that he, Wyatt, Melinda and Paige were unusual, but he had not expected this. In his quest for a normal life, he had always secretly liked the idea that his powers could be taken away if need be. They were handy to have, of course, and he didn’t really want to lose them—but it was nice to think that it was an option. But, if the elders were correct, maybe things weren’t as simple as he thought.

“It’s starting, Sandra, we need to tell him.” Another female elder said softly, looking between the young man and the elder who had been most forthcoming.

A few of the others nodded in agreement.

Chris had no idea what “it” was, but he had to admit that his curiosity was starting to get the better of him. He still had no intention of doing their bidding, but it couldn’t hurt to figure out why they had summoned him at such a terrible time.

“Alright, enough with the whispers and the cryptic crap.” He began gruffly. “I’m not agreeing to anything, but you can at least tell me why you called me up here. What could possibly be so damn important?”

There was another long pause before Sandra spoke once more.

“You’re the Charmed Ones new whitelighter.” She said softly, her eyes pleading with him for understanding and compliance. “Like it or not, this has been your destiny since before you were born, and there is nothing any of us can do to stop it.”

Chris starred at her in disbelief.

None of this made any sense.

How could she possibly be saying this with a serious face. Was it some sort of sick joke?

“Aunt Phoebe is dead.” Chris said, his eyes wide with disbelief as he choked out those difficult words. “The Charmed Ones are finished, unless you’re going to tell me that my mother has yet another long-lost sister out there.” He rolled his eyes, thinking about the unlikeliness of that scenario. “And besides,” he finished. “My father is their whitelighter. They don’t need a new one.”

This was all simply ridiculous.

“Your father will continue to protect your mother and aunt, but it is time for you to guide the next generation.” Maxwell explained with a reassuring nod. “You will follow in his footsteps.”

“The next…” Chris began, his eyes even wider than they had been before.

His stomach flopped once more as he tried to come to terms with what that meant. In all the grief and pain of the past week, he had taken some solace in the fact that part of his family’s magical burden was now over. Being the Charmed Ones mad his mother and aunts targets and, now that the power of three was dissolved, he had assumed that they would be able to take a much-needed step back.

And perhaps they still would. But, apparently, the prophecy of the Charmed Ones would still fall on the Halliwells.

If he was destined to be their whitelighter, that probably meant that the burden would not be bestowed on him and his siblings. And Paige only had two biological children.

Which probably meant that…

“No!” Chris exclaimed, incensed once more as the realization sunk in. “They just lost their mother! And they’re too young. You can’t do this to them! You can’t!”

Prue, Parker and Peyton were broken from their loss. And they were even younger than he was. Younger than their mothers had been when they had been given this burden! Pure had just started college, and Parker and Peyton weren’t even finished high school yet.

There was no way they could be the new Charmed Ones.

It wasn’t fair.   

Some of the elders hung their heads in sympathy.

“We don’t decide these things.” Sandra reminded him sadly. As much as he hated to admit it, he could sense that she felt some of his pain. “We do not control fate, but we can do our best to make this an easy transition.” She paused. “ _You_ are the key to that, Christopher. They need you to guide and protect them.”

Chris could feel his heart pounding rapidly in his chest as a deluge of emotions swirled inside of him. He was angry, afraid, wary, sad—no longer for himself, but at the thought of his young cousins facing this fate.

“You need to stop this.” He pleaded, looking at the members of the stoic council.

“We can’t.” Sandra whispered, closing her eyes for a brief moment. “It’s already too late. The Charmed Ones have been reborn.”

No.

Chris’ head screamed in protest but he was too overwhelmed to voice it.

“HELP! SOMEONE HELP!”

“PLEASE!”

He heard familiar voices echo in his head and he looked towards the elders once more. It was too late for him too.

He knew that now.

“Go to them.” Sandra urged, recognizing the look on his face. “You’re their whitelighter. They need you.”

As much as he wanted to protest, Chris knew that the elder was right.

Without another moment of hesitation, he finally orbed away.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	3. Chapter 3

It was dark now.

And Chris was surprised to find himself in an unfamiliar park. Thankfully, his eyes adjusted quickly and he spun around to see his three cousins face to face with a large and dangerous looking demon.

“Shit.” He muttered under his breath as he watched Pure stumble back from the impact of a fireball. Thankfully, it only hit her arm and his cousin still managed to throw the creature back with a blast of telekinesis.

Parker, for her part, was attempting to blast the thing with her newly acquired combustion but (since she had only gained that power a few months ago), she kept missing her mark.

The demon temporarily disabled, Chris rushed over to the girls and quickly go to work healing the oldest sister’s arm. Prue looked surprised to see him for a moment, but she smiled gratefully as her pain eased.

“Chris!” Peyton exclaimed, also relieved to see her cousin arrive. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault! I had a vision of this thing attacking an innocent and we came to stop it, but it’s way more powerful then we thought!”

“It’s not your fault,” Chris assure her with a warm smile before turning to the middle sister. “Parker, do your best to clear your mind before you blast him. And keep your eyes focused on his head. That’s his weak spot.”

The girl nodded and. Just as the demon began to stumble to his feet, she successfully knocked him back down with a blast of power.

He gave a roar of rage as he fell back onto the bloody grass.

“That won’t keep him down long.” Chris said quickly, his eyes on the brute. “He’s an upper level demon, you need to use a power of three spell.”

The girls all looked at him in confusion and he quickly shook his head. “There’s no time to explain, you have to trust me.” He paused. “Try a basic one. The power of three will set you free.”

Still confused, but focused on the task at hand, the three instinctively locked hands and turned their attention to the demon who was once again regaining his strength.

“The power of three will set us free.”

They chanted, all three sets of brown eyes set with determination.

“The power of three will set us free. The power of three will set us free. The power of three will set us free.”

As they repeated the mantra, the demon began to roar with pain.

Chris took a step back as he watched the scene unfold. Smoke was beginning to rise from the ugly creature and, despite all of the stress they had gone through, the girls did not relent.

“The power of three will set us free!”

With one final, horrible, roar the demon burst into flames, leaving nothing but a scorch mark behind on the grass.

The four Halliwells stood in silence, all trying to absorb what had just happened.

It pained him to think it, but there was no doubt in his mind that the elders had been right. If the power of three spell had worked, then his cousins really were the new Charmed Ones.

And it was too late to go back now.

“Where’s the innocent?” Chris finally asked, looking around the dark field. “Do they need healing?”

Prue, always the leader of the pack, shook her head as she turned to look at her cousin. “No, he ran off before the demon go got him.” She said after drawing a shaky breath.

After glancing briefly at both of her sisters, the girl looked towards him once more.

“What the hell just happened?” She asked, her eyes boring into his. “How did you know that a power of three spell would work?” She paused. “How is that even possible?”

Chris let out a ragged sigh. As their whitelighter, he supposed it would often fall on him to explain things. Perhaps it was better to stop fighting it, sooner rather than later.

He hated to think what would have happened if he had ignored their call that night.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else to talk.” He suggested, looking around the unfamiliar area.

Unfortunately, his cousins were not ready to oblige.

“No, here. Now.” Prue replied, folding her arms.

Of the three, she was by far the most stubborn. Chris had always been close to her—they shared that trait, along with many others, and she was only two years younger than he was.

Parker was nodding in agreement and Chris tilted his head to see Peyton looking up at him, the wheels clearly turning in her head. The sixteen-year-old was very perceptive, and he would not be surprised if she figured it out first.

“Usually we have to call your name for you to hear us.” The youngest sister said slowly, examining her cousin as if he had grown a second head. “But today, we didn’t. You came when we just called for help.” Before he could say anything. Peyton reached out and took his hand, her eyes slowly closing as she did.

The girl was very much like her late mother and had a variety of sensing abilities on top of her premonitions. 

If he knew his little cousin, she was probably trying to read his aura right now.

“You feel like a whitelighter, Chris.” The girl stated as she looked back up at him. “I mean, more than usual.” There was a short pause. “Are you _our_ whitelighter?”

The three starred at him expectantly and he knew that there was no point in keeping anything from them, as unpleasant as it may be.

“Yes.” He said, biting his lip nervously.

He could hardly believe that he was admitting it—and accepting it—so easily.

Just a short while ago he had been determined to turn the elders down, no matter the task. But as soon as he had heard their screams, he had known that he could not resist. These girls were his weak spot and he knew that he would give up anything to keep them safe.

Especially now.

The elders had probably known that too.

“Since when do we need our own whitelighter?” Parker asked, the strain and exhaustion evident in her voice. “Does this have something to do with the lights that started flashing in the attic?” She hesitated, realization dawning as she spoke. “Oh god, we’re not—”

“No. No fucking way.” Prue cut in, her brown eyes flashing as she looked between her cousin and sisters. “All of this prophesized destiny crap _killed_ our mother.  She hasn’t even been gone for a week! Her funeral was _today_! And they won’t even give us one fucking moment to mourn!”

Chris knew exactly how she felt, there was no doubt that this was cruel and unfair, and he wished that there was a way to make it better.

“Prue, I’m sorry, but—”

The oldest sister glared, her eyes locking on his. “I don’t want to hear the company line, angel-boy.” She spat, seething with rage. “Orb back up there and tell them to leave us the hell alone! I am DONE with this crap. All of it!”

“I tried Prue, but…”

Before the boy could finish his reply Prue disappeared in a beam of pink light. For a moment, the park was filled with a warm glow that did not suit the current mood of any of the Halliwells present before a much more fitting darkness fell.

Chris heard Parker let out a shaky breath as she slumped against a nearby tree and slowly slid down onto the grass.

“We shouldn’t have gone up there.” She muttered, probably referring to whatever had happened in the attic earlier that evening.

The middle sister looked over at her cousin.

“We all felt a sudden urge to go to the attic.” She continued, rubbing her tired eyes. “I guess a part of me thought that it was mom calling out to us,” Parker’s voice broke slightly as she spoke and Chris could tell that she was holding back tears. “At first, we just sat and talked—but then Peyton had her vision of the innocent and we all touched the book…”

“The room started rattling, and there were bright lights.” Peyton continued, nervously running her hands through her long dark hair. “But we were so focused on the vision and we beamed out. I should have known. I should have sensed it.”

Chris placed a reassuring arm around the teen’s shoulders as he drew her in for a much-needed hug.

“None of us knew this was coming.” He paused, shaking his head regretfully. “And as much as I hate to say it, I doubt we could have stopped it even if we did know what was about to happen.” The young man let out a tense sigh. “You’re the Charmed Ones now.” He stated.

It felt weird to finally say it out loud but he supposed they would have to embrace it sooner or later. His mother and her sisters had, and they had done so much good over the decades. He hated to see his cousins burdened with this, and he was still seething with anger about the unfairness of it all—but it helped to think of the countless innocents who would live thanks to their hard work.

They had already saved one tonight.

That provided some comfort.

“Where do you think Prue went?” Parker asked, still seated on the soft ground. “Is she okay?”

Chris quickly sensed for her and gave the girls a reassuring nod.

“She’s fine.” He confirmed, happy to see the relief on their faces. “She’s in the courtyard behind the Bay Mirror.”

“Good” Peyton sighed before turning back to her cousin. “Maybe you should go talk to her.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Me?” He asked skeptically. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? She seemed pretty pissed.” The young man paused, wringing his hands uncomfortably. “Especially at me. I guess she sees me as a mouthpiece for the elders now.”

He hated the thought. Prue had always shared his annoyance towards the elders—it was one of the many things they had bonded over. But now, it looked like he had betrayed what they both stood for.

He had orbed in to tell them about their destiny. He had sounded exactly like his father then he had told her there was nothing they could do to fight it.

For the umpteenth time that night, he cursed the fates for putting him in this horrible position.

“You’re Prue’s favourite cousin.” Parker pointed out as she slowly began to get to her feet. “And now you’re her whitelighter too. Isn’t it sorta your job to guide her through difficult times?”

Chris shut his eyes for a moment and nodded. “Yeah, I guess. I can try.”

Peyton gave him a small reassuring smile and Parker shook her head in satisfaction.

“Okay, good.” The middle sister (always the calmest of the three) said quietly. “I don’t know about you, Pey, but I think I need to get some rest and process all of this. Are you coming?”

Peyton nodded and they watched as Parker beamed out.

It appeared that the youngest sibling was about to follow suit but she hesitated for a moment before turning to give her cousin one last hug.

“Thanks, Chris.” She said as she slowly drew back.

“For what?” He asked. In his eyes, he hadn’t done all that much—and she had just as much right to be annoyed with his as Prue did for revealing their fate.

“For protecting us.” The girl replied. “I’m glad you’re our whitelighter. I know mom would be happy about it too.” She paused, mustering a small smile through her welling tears. “It’s nice that we won’t be stuck with some boring old guy like the last Charmed Ones were.” She said with a playful wink.

Chris had to admire her ability to crack a joke at a time like this, and he let out a small chuckle.

“Hey now.” He said in mock annoyance. “That’s my father you’re talking about.”

The girl stuck out her tongue before finally disappearing in a blaze of pink.

Now alone, Chris allowed himself to smile for a moment longer. Peyton’s words had meant more to him then she could possibly know and, full of fresh resolve, he orbed out to find the oldest sister.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chris had been to visit the Bay Mirror countless times, but he had not been back since his Aunt’s untimely passing.

Ask Phoebe had many fans, and he was not surprised to see that a large memorial had been formed in the dark courtyard. Hundreds of people had left flowers and mementos during the past few days, and the newspaper had erected a large billboard with his Aunt’s smiling picture.

The young man paused for a moment, looking up at the image as he fought back a lump in his throat. Even after the funeral, the reality had not really set in. For any of them.

It was so strange to think that she would not come bounding through the door, bursting with stories, at their next family dinner. She had always been so much fun, and so full of life. How could all of that have been snuffed out in an instant?

He hoped that he would always be able to remember that wide smile.

A quiet shuffling sound to his left caused the young man to turn abruptly. He was not surprised to find his oldest cousin sitting on a stone bench, also looking up at her mother’s image. It was little wonder she had come here.

For a moment, he foolishly though that she had not noticed his arrival but her angry voice quickly corrected that misconception.

“Go away, _whitelighter_.” The girl muttered, not even bothering to glance at her cousin.

Chris wondered if his first instinct had been right after all- maybe he should not have been the one to come—but it was too late to turn back now.

The young man took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself. She was grieving, he reminded himself, and she didn’t mean most of what she said right now. He couldn’t blame her for her anger at a time like this.

“Prue, come on.” He said gently as he took a few cautious steps in her direction. “I’m not just some whitelighter. It’s me.” He paused, seeing no response in her expression. “Your sisters are worried about you. You need to come home.”

“If my sisters are worried then they can come get me.” She retorted, finally looking in his direction with anger in her dark, tired eyes. “I’d rather talk to them than some mouthpiece for the elders.”

Chris gritted his teeth at her jab, but did his best to maintain his cool as he sat next to her on the cold bench.

There was a pause as he contemplated the best response.

“You seem to think I want this for some reason.” He finally said, turning towards his cousin. “But believe me, I don’t.”

The girl shrugged and looked away.

“The elders summoned me with some sort of ridiculous, painful buzzer and I went up there to tell them off. I couldn’t believe they had the nerve to call me up there on a day like this and I fought as hard as I could.” He paused, glancing briefly up towards the sky. “I even told them to clip my wings.”

His last statement elicited a response and Prue turned towards him with surprise. “You did?” She asked, her eyes wide.

The young man nodded. “I meant it too. But—” he hesitated, recalling the unpleasant exchange. “Apparently that would kill me because I was born this way. They told me I’ve never been human and that means I never can be.”

Prue let out a breath. “That sucks.” She acknowledged. “I’m sorry Chris. I know you used to talk about giving up your powers if they ever got in the way of your plans.”

He did his best to shrug nonchalantly. Truth be told, he was still trying to come to terms with things himself.  It would take more than a few hours to accept it.

But there were more pressing matters at hand.

“The point is, I really did try, Prue. And I’ll always do anything I can to make things easier on you guys, you know that.”

For a moment, it looked like the girl wanted to protest but after a pause she simply nodded dejectedly.

“Fine.” The girl muttered, letting out a tired sigh. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not the enemy, Chris. And of course you’re not just some whitelighter who is trying to manipulate us into following the powers that be. But—” She paused, “I don’t want this. I didn’t ask for this life. You know I’ve always wanted to be normal too and I guess I thought that, maybe, the universe would finally give us a break. After everything.”

Chris looked down at the cobblestones as he gave his head a wary shake.

“Yeah, me too.” He admitted. “I mean, I guess part of me always knew that we’d have to deal with some of this crap. But I definitely didn’t think this would happen. Especially right now. How much can one family possibly take?”

Prue scoffed. “A lot, apparently.” She said before looking back up at the poster of her mother. Chris could see the tears in her eyes, and he waited patiently as she leaned her head on his shoulder and let them fall.

Wrapping a protective arm around her, they sat in silence, gazing up at the woman they would always miss dearly.

“What do you think my mom would say?” Prue asked quietly as she ran one of her sleeves under her eyes. “Do you think she’d be pissed?”

Chris gave a small smile as he contemplated his response.

“She’d probably be pissed at first.” He replied honestly, picturing his Aunt in one of her trademark frenzies. “She’d probably threaten to kick a few of the elders’ asses too.” Prue chuckled through her tears. “But,” Chris added, giving the girl a reassuring squeeze. “I bet a part of her would be proud to see her girls carry on her legacy as well. She took a lot of pride in what she and her sisters did, and she always understood its importance. As much as she’d hate to see you in danger, she’d be cheering you on.”

Prue wiped her eyes again as she nodded in agreement.

“Yeah.” She agreed, her voice weak with emotion. “I think you’re right about that.” The girl paused. “She’ll always be cheering us on.”

That sat for a moment longer both hoping that, where ever she was, she was already proud.

“We should both get some rest, Prue.” Chris pointed out as he slowly rose and offered his cousin a hand. “It’s been a long, hard day.”

The girl could not disagree and she accepted his assistance. “Thanks, Chris.” She said, pulling him into an embrace. “And sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

“It’s already forgotten.” The young man replied before orbing them home for some much needed sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	4. Chapter 4

“They are CHILDREN, Leo!”

Before he even made it down the stairs, Chris could hear his mother shouting from the kitchen.

As he had drifted off to sleep the previous night he had briefly wondered how she would take the news—by the time he had gotten back home, his mother had gone to bed and he had managed a brief conversation with his father before stumbling into his room and collapsing from exhaustion.

His dad, always the more level headed of his parents, had taken the news fairly well. He had looked concerned, but there had been definite pride in his eyes as well when Chris had told him about his new role.

His mother, however, would be an entirely different story and Chris braced himself for the worst as he reluctantly walked into the kitchen.

He paused in the doorway for a moment, surveying the shards of broken plates currently littering the ground. The young man was willing to bet that this was the work of his mother’s explosive power.

It took a second for the woman to catch sight of him but, as soon as she did, she came rushing in his direction and pulled him into a tight hug.

Well, at least she wasn’t mad at him, he thought with relief.

“Christopher!” She exclaimed, uncharacteristically using his full name. “Sweetheart, we are going to fix this, I promise!”

He let her cling to him for a bit, but he soon had to beg for mercy. “Mom, please, you’re hurting me.” He choked out.

She apologized as she drew back and then quickly ushered him towards the table where a large stack of banana pancakes was waiting. Although they were his favourite, he looked up at her with wary confusion.

He had expected her to yell at him, not to cling to him and treat him to his favourite breakfast. She was behaving oddly, not that he could really blame her for it the day after her sister’s funeral.

The young man looked towards his father, in search of an explanation but the older man simply shrugged. Leo was probably just as confused—she had been yelling at him a moment earlier and now she was hovering over their youngest son as if he was six years old again.

“Would you like syrup or jam, sweetheart?” She asked, placing a hand on his cheek as she spoke. “You know what, I’ll bring you both!”

Piper bustled off towards the cupboard and he watched his father cautiously back away as she passed. She did not acknowledge her husband and quickly retuned to sit next to her son, the promised items in tow.

Before he knew what was happening, she had coated the pancakes in syrup and jam for him and looked up expectantly.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, sweetheart. Just enjoy your breakfast.” She said before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “We’re going to sort everything out.”

Piper turned, her expression visibly darkening. “Aren’t we, Leo?”

His father let out a gentle sigh as he looked towards the table and Chris could tell that he was trying to choose his words carefully.

“As I was saying, Piper.” The whitelighter began cautiously. “Even the elders can’t fight fate. I’m not sure what we can do.”

Chris could feel his mother tense and he braced himself for an outburst. She was not always the best at listening to reason.

“He’s too young, Leo.” The woman snapped back, clearly forgetting her earlier attempt to be calm. “He’s not even done college! And lord knows he has already sacrificed enough. I’m his mother and if Chris wants a normal life, I am going to fight until he gets what he deserves.”

“Mom, it’s fine.” Chris cut in, hoping to diffuse some of the tension. There was already so much to deal with, and he didn’t want his parents to argue on his behalf.

He had never been fond of conflict.

“It’s not fine, Christopher.” She retorted, finally directing some of her anger at him. “They can’t do this to you! I won’t let them turn my son into a whitelighter! This is not how things are supposed to be! You’re not one of them!”

Chris was somewhat surprised to feel a flash of anger run though him as his mother spoke. Sure, he was not thrilled about the situation either—but it hurt him more than he had expected to hear her statements.

Pancakes forgotten, the young man stood up abruptly.

“Sorry if I’m a disappointment to you, mom.” He replied, roughly tucking in his chair. “But if you didn’t want your son to be a whitelighter then you probably shouldn’t have broken the rules and married one. But, like it or not, you’re stuck with me now.”

Incensed, Chris threw a handful of orbs up towards the ceiling to emphasise his point. “I’m never going to be normal. Deal with it.” He paused. “Or don’t”

Before he could take another step he felt his mother’s hand on his arm and softened as he looked down to see the hurt in her eyes.

“Chris,” She began, much more gently then before. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

After a moment, he let out a breath and nodded.

He knew that.

Of course he did.

But he had been so worried about her disappointment and rejection that he had quickly leapt to the worst possible conclusions.

“I love you, and your brother and sister, exactly as you are.” She continued before shooting her husband an apologetic glance as well. “I’m just worried about you. And your cousins. I know better than most what a huge burden has been cast on you all—and no mother wants her child to experience that kind of danger and pain.”

Chris nodded as he slowly sank back down into his seat. Piper quickly sat down beside him and they both waited for a moment as Leo made his way to the other side of the table.

He could sense the concern radiating off of them both.

The young man took a breath.

“I know, mom. I get why you’re worried.” He conceded. “And you’re right, this isn’t exactly what I imagined for myself.” Chris gave a small smile. “I may have inherited dad’s powers, but I got your terrible stubbornness.” He noted. “I did not accept this without a fight.”

His father smiled and his mother gave him a playful swat on the arm for the comment on her demeanour.  

“I was up there last night, telling the elders off for summoning me—but then I heard the girls crying out for help and I knew what had to be done. They needed me, mom, and I know that I can do this better than some random whitelighter the elders might assign.” He paused, feeling an all-too-familiar lump forming in his throat. “And I realized that I do want to do this. For Aunt Phoebe. I know she’d want me to be the one looking out for them.”

His mother brought a hand to her chest and he could see the tears instantly begin to well.

“Sorry mom, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, no, you didn’t.” She reassured him with a pat on his arm before wiping away her falling tears. “Sometimes I’m not sure what I did to deserve such brave and wonderful children.”   

He tried not to flush at her comment. Piper Halliwell could be surprisingly mushy at times, especially when it came to her sons and daughter.

“But still, Chris.” His mother began again, trying to regain her composure. “You’re only twenty-three, and this is going make your life so much more complicated. How are you going to be the Charmed One’s whitelighter and get through medical school? And don’t even get me going on your poor cousins. They’re dealing with the loss of their mother, for goodness sakes. How are they supposed to handle this? Prue just started college, Parker has six more months of high school, and Peyton is only in the eleventh grade! This is insane!”

Chris gave a sigh and looked down at the old wooden table. “I don’t disagree with you, mom.” He said softly. “But, like dad said, I don’t think there is anything we can do. Phoebe is gone, and the power of three has shifted to the next generation. You couldn’t stop it when it was your turn, and we can’t stop it now.”

Piper looked like she was searching for a retort but, unable to find one, the woman simply leaned back against her chair, glancing between her husband and youngest son.

“God, you really do sound like your father sometimes.” She muttered, her slight annoyance laced with undeniable amusement.

Chris looked over at his dad who gave him a quick wink.

“What can I say, I learned from the best.” The young man commented, eliciting another glow of pride from Leo. Despite the stress of it all, his father’s clear support did make things easier. He’d had an excellent role model growing up and, as soon as the man had gotten his powers back, he had trained all three of his children to the best of his ability.

In practice, this had meant a lot of time spent with Chris, who had inherited more whitelighter powers then both of his siblings combined. Wyatt could orb, sense, heal and had telekinetic orbing. So far, Melinda could only orb. Chris, meanwhile, had every whitelighter ability and had proven to be a natural at a young age.

He had even begun to follow his father’s path in the mortal world, channeling his desire to heal into his drive towards becoming a doctor. 

In retrospect, this turn of events should not have come to a surprise to anyone.

Chris paused for a second, his senses suddenly alerting him to a new presence in the house.

“The girls just beamed into the attic.” He noted, standing up from his chair once more. “I should go check on them.”

“Okay.” Piper agreed with a defeated sigh as Leo nodded in approval.

“If you need any help. With anything. You know I’m here for you Chris.” The older man said as his son began his stride towards the door.

“I know.” He replied, looking over his shoulder as he reached the threshold. “Thanks, dad. I love you guys.”

And with that, Chris disappeared from view.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Piper and Leo watched their son make his exit before turning back towards the family dining table.

The former Charmed One sighed as her husband reached out and placed a gentle hand on top of hers. Truth be told, she was glad that their argument had passed and, although nothing had resolved in the way she wanted, her son’s calm reassurances had helped her feel better about the current predicament.

She wasn’t ready to give up on finding another way forward, but she was undeniably exhausted. If Chris was content, she would let him carry on until they could think of another plan.

“Piper.” Leo began slowly as he gave her hand a light squeeze. “I know it’s hard, but we shouldn’t be too surprised by this.” He said softly. “He’s already spent two years as the Charmed One’s whitelighter, after all. And we’ve known for a long time what his powers seemed to suggest.”

The woman bit her lip as she tried to accept her husband’s calm assertions. Even after all these years, it was painful to think of the grown-up version of her son who had bravely saved the future. They had chosen not to tell the boys what had happened in the past, deciding instead to focus on the future that Chris had worked so hard to create.

During the past few years, however, they had all been filled with bitter-sweet memories as her son had grown into a young man identical to the one they had once known. He was just as brave and handsome as he had been before—but, she was glad to say, he had not been burdened by the horrible experiences of his counterpart.

His brother had never turned, his mother was still alive, and he had developed a very close relationship with his father.

As Piper had just pointed out, Leo and Chris were very similar most of the time. They’d had similar mannerisms in the past too, which she began to notice after Chris’ true identity had been revealed, but in this future their bond was even more apparent.

This Chris had not had to fight nearly as much as his other version had been forced to. As a result, he was much calmer and more level headed and he generally preferred healing to aggression. The boy had always been wise beyond his years and, as recent events had demonstrated, he embraced challenges with a strength and insight that she attributed to her husband.

“I suppose you’re right.” Piper replied, grateful that the man had not been scared away by her earlier outburst.

She had not really meant to take out her grief and anger on him, but when he had walked into the kitchen that morning and told her what had happened to Chris and his cousins last night, she had lost her cool.    

It was just a lot to take in, especially after everything else that had been going on that week. The woman had been in a pain-filled daze ever since she had watched her sister fall to the demon and (understandably) her emotions were even more frayed than usual.

As unfair as it all seemed, the logical side of her brain knew that this was simply the hand they had all been dealt. Every time something terrible happened to the family, she would pray that they had finally paid their dues. That they would finally be allowed to live the normal lives they wanted.

But things were never that simple for the Halliwells. Their power came with huge responsibilities and there had never been any reprieve. 

Deep down, she knew there never would be.

“I just hope they can handle it all.” The former Charmed One sighed as she looked up at her husband once more.

As he gave a reassuring nod, Piper tried to calm herself by focusing on the biggest of all silver linings. Without magic—without their burdensome destinies—she never would have found her Leo. He always had been, and always would be, the best thing that had ever happened to her.

It always helped to remind herself of that during times like these.    

He had given her love, and courage, and happiness—and three little angels of her very own.

She couldn’t bear the thought of life without him.

“I know that Chris can do this.” Leo replied, the proud smile once again tugging at his lips. “He has mastered his whitelighter powers and, even if he might not have picked this job, he will preform it with fierce loyalty and diligence. And I’ll be there if he ever needs any support.” He paused. “And the girls—they’re young, and I wish this could have waited, but they’re powerful witches. They spent their entire lives watching the example set by you and your sisters.” There was a thoughtful pause. “In a lot of ways, they’re a lot more prepared that you guys were when you became the Charmed Ones. You didn’t know you were witches—but they’ve been honing their powers since they were born.”

It was a fair point.

“I suppose.” The Piper slowly agreed.

“And they’ll have you and Paige to guide them.” Leo finished, his voice softer than before.

They both knew that a third name should have been present, and an all-too-familiar jolt of pain passed through her as she thought of her younger sister.

She wondered how Phoebe would react if she was here. How she was reacting as she watched from the great beyond. Terrified? Angry? Proud?

Piper could not say for sure, but she was willing to bet that it was a combination of the above.

Eyes locking with her husband’s, the woman let the tears begin to fall.

“We’ll all protect them.” She whispered, her voice quivering with emotion. “It’s what Phoebe would want us to do.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	5. Chapter 5

Chris walked through the attic door to see his three cousins gathered around the Book of Shadows.

While it wasn’t unusual for them to visit the manor (it was still the hub of the Halliwell family, even though Phoebe and Paige had moved out with their respective families) none of the sisters had ever been overly keen on wiccan duties and this was an unusual sight.

Prue, like him, had stoically done her part when necessary, but was eager to focus on her regular life. She had just started a college degree in psychology and had been loving her time on campus.

Parker was probably the most magically inclined of the three, but she tended to show more interest in her cupid side and sometimes tagged along with her father on his missions.

And the youngest, Peyton, had only recently been allowed to come along on a couple of vanquishes. She was only sixteen, and her powers were far more passive than other members of the family. Chris wasn’t used to having her around for magic-related tasks. 

For the most part, the magical duties had fallen to the original Charmed Ones and the Twice Blessed—quite frankly, Chris had always assumed that it would be his brother who took on the bulk of their families’ duties when the time came.

But, after this unexpected turn of events, he supposed he would have to get used to his cousins taking charge.

There was no force of good more powerful than the Charmed Ones. Not even Wyatt.

“Hey Chris.” Parker greeted him with a quick glance.

He returned the hello before surveying the room and taking a seat on the old couch that was nearest to the book.

“How did you know we were here?” The youngest asked, an inquisitive look on her face.

The young man tilted his head to the side before giving the honest answer—even though he was worried that they might not want to hear it.

“Ever since last night, you three have been on my radar at all times.” He said. Chris was still trying to adjust to the feeling himself and he didn’t want them to think he was intentionally spying on them. Prue’s head snapped up from the book and she looked at him with wide eyes. “I mean, I’ve always been able to sense you if I tried.” He explained, recalling how faint their presence used to feel in comparison. “But now, I can always feel where you are. Stronger than I’ve ever been able to feel anyone else.”

He watched as Prue pursed her lips before drawing a deep breath.

“And you can’t turn it off?” She asked, clearly hoping that he could.

Chris hesitated. “Er, I don’t know.” He replied, surprised by how insecure he suddenly felt by his inability to answer.

His father had always made this look so easy.

He knew it was silly but, as their older cousin, and their whiteligher, he felt like he should have all the answers. Chris tried to remind himself that he was just as new at this as they were and that he should not let his perfectionism bring him down.

But, while he’d always had whitelighter powers, this was the first time he’d been assigned charges. It was definitely a different feeling, and one that had been a bit of a surprise.

“I’ll ask my dad later.” He said, quickly thinking of a way to change the topic. “What are you guys looking for in the book?”

The girls exchanged a look and he could instantly see the seriousness in their faces.

Clearly, they were not here to do some lite reading.

“We need to find him, Chris.” Prue replied after a heavy pause. “And we need to kill him.”

The other two nodded in agreement and the boy instantly knew who they were referring to.

Him…

The demon who had killed their mother.

The creature had gotten to his aunt before there had been a chance to say a power of three spell. He had clearly been an upper level demon, and the best Chris, Wyatt, Paige and Piper could do together was banish him from the manor.

They were shielded from his attacks here now, but he was still out there some where and Chris understood why this would be their first priority as the new Charmed Ones.

The rest of the family had, of course, begun the task of finding the brute. Unfortunately, there had only been a very short entry on him in the Book of Shadows (“Quintu—very powerful upper level demon, requires the power of three” it read).

Chris had assumed that they would continue their mission sooner rather than later, but the emotional strain and stress of organizing Aunt Phoebe’s memorial had taken precedence during the past couple of days. But even though that was still fresh and raw, he could understand why the girls wanted to refocus.

The Halliwells could not let Quintu live.

Justice had to be done.

And, unfortunately, his cousins were the only ones who could do it. Chris hated the thought of them having to face their mother’s killer so soon after they had lost her—but if this was what they had decided to do, it was his job to support them.

“We talked about it.” Parker stated, perhaps sensing that Chris was wary about their decision. “And we all agreed that this is what we want. Now.”

Prue nodded in agreement. “None of us will be able to focus on helping innocents until we avenge mom.” Her voice quivered as she said the last word and the young man watched as she struggled to keep her emotions in check.

He could see their fierce determination, and he did not want to question them for their choice. If he was in their position, he would probably be doing the exact same thing and he too wanted the murderous creature obliterated as soon as possible for what it had done to his family.

As long as no one else got hurt along the way.

“Okay then.” Chris said, getting to his feet and walking over to join them at the book. “What have you guys been looking for? We know there isn’t much about him in there.”

Peyton nodded in agreement, her dark brown ponytail brushing against his shoulder. “Yeah, we know. But I thought we could take a look to see if there were any other upper level demons in here with similar powers. That might give us a hint about what kind of potion or spell we might need.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Chris felt a small smile tug at his lips. The teen might have been new at this, but her instincts were good and she was clearly adept at problem solving.

“Good thought.” He commended with a nod. “And if you do find anything similar, the magic school library has books about demon families that may tell us more.”

“Great.” Prue replied, her finger quickly skimming across the page that lay open in front of them before turning to face him.

She gave him a look that he could not quite read—it seemed to be simultaneously amused and serious.

The young man looked down at his petite cousin, confused.

“What?”

This time, Prue gave a smirk and he knew his cousin was about to say something he wouldn’t like.

“We were also thinking that you should go check with the elders.” She replied, clearly entertained by the thought of her elder-hating cousin being stuck with the task.

Chris had to suppress a moan.

Everything had happened so fast since this had begun and the thought that he would one day have to do that had not yet crossed his mind.

But she was right, of course. They did sometimes have information and he was the only one of them that could go Up There. Chris had hoped that he wouldn’t have to face the elders for a good long while after their confrontation last night—but clearly, he would not be that lucky. The sisters needed any help they could get, and that meant he would have to swallow his pride and go crawling back.

“I—well.” He stuttered, failing to fully keep his composure. “Yeah, I’ll go…check with the elders.”

The phrase felt funny on his lips and for a moment he felt like he had been possessed by his father. That was Leo’s line, not his.

But, he supposed, the time truly had come for the next generation and he would have to get used to filling that role.

Much to his displeasure, Prue gave a small snort of amusement before shooting him a quick wink. “Have fun, angel-boy.” She said, using the childhood nickname she knew that he hated.

Annoyed as he was, Chris drew a deep breath and decided to let it slide.

Despite it all, it was good to finally see his cousin smile.

Chris orbed out, but not before giving her his trademark eye-roll.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Even though he had every intention of going to check with the elders, Chris had one stop that he wanted to make first. Unbeknownst to the sisters, he rematerialized in the sunroom where he had sensed his father sitting alone.

The older man placed down the newspaper he was reading and offered his youngest son a welcoming smile.

“Hey Chris, how are things going?” He asked warmly, his calm voice instantly making the young man feel better. His father had always had that effect. “Are the girls okay?”

Chris nodded as he took a seat in the nearest wicker chair. “Yeah, they’re as well as can be expected.” He answered, his eyes dwelling on one of the many flower arrangements friends and neighbours had sent over for the memorial.

He hesitated for a moment, briefly second guessing himself for coming down, before deciding to continue.

“I, errr, have a question.” He admitted, his hands nervously tracing the woven pattern of the chair’s arm. He was finding it hard to look his father in the eye as he spoke, but he hoped that he could manage to choke out his question.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he suddenly felt so insecure. His dad was always supportive and Chris knew he would not be judged. But he supposed he had never been great at asking for help. Plus his father had worked so hard to help him train his powers over the years and he felt like a bit of a failure for not already knowing exactly what to do.

But, as one of his clinical biology professors liked to remind him, blazing ahead into the unknown was far worse than asking a simple question. It was true in medicine, and it was probably true now.  

Chris finally broke his pause.

“So, the girls want me to check on something for them.” He began, not yet ready to reveal the full mission. “And they asked me to, um,” he hesitated, trying to get the strange words out once more. “Check with the elders. And I’m not entirely sure how.” He finished quickly, a slight flush spreading across his cheeks.  

Reluctantly, he forced himself to look up and found that his father was smiling in his direction. He seemed pleased rather than disappointed and Chris relaxed a bit.

“I mean, obviously it means talking to them.” The dark haired Halliwell noted. “But I don’t know how to get into that chamber I was in last night without being summoned. I guess that was their council chamber or something. Are they usually in there? Or is there a good chance I’ll find one if I just orb into the main hall?”

Leo leaned back in his seat, still smiling. “Yes, that was the council chamber they summoned you to last night. But they only really gather in there for important moments.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised that he had qualified as “important.”

“If you orb into the main hall and used your senses to call out for an elder, one will appear.” The man continued. “Do you remember when I taught you how to reach out to another whitelighter with your sensing power? That’s what you need to do.”

Chris nodded, suddenly feeling a bit more wary. “Yeah, I remember.” He began, biting his lip. “But I never really practiced it much.”

From what he could recall, it wasn’t that different from regular sensing but, instead of just searching for a person you linked onto their consciousness and gave them the signal you wanted. It only worked with other whitelighters and Chris had never had much reason to use it.

“I’m sure you can do it.” His dad said confidently, but the young man remained hesitant until a sudden idea crossed his mind.

Wordlessly, he closed his eyes and reached out with his senses, trying to do what his father had taught him many years ago.

He could feel it work instantly and, a few seconds later, a stream of orb lights filled the room.

“What did you just do, Chris?” His brother asked as he materialized, confusion evident on his face. “I was writing up some lessons plans and then it’s like I felt you asking me to come. It was different than a regular call, though. It felt…deeper?”

Grinning, Chris hopped up from his chair and gave Wyatt a quick pat on the arm.

“Dad can explain.” He said, feeling much better than he had before. It had worked, and he was ready. “I’ve gotta go!”

He disappeared to the sight of Wyatt shaking his head in bemusement.    

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	6. Chapter 6

“Christopher.”

To his relief, Chris had managed to summon the elder who he had always felt least hostile towards and he let out a small breath as she appeared in front of him. Despite being an elder (and, often, the bearer of bad news) Sandra had always seemed to support the Halliwells and the young man had never seen her become as annoyed or short-tempered as some of the others.

As soon as he had arrived in the heavens he had decided to try calling out to her. The task had been just as easy as it had been when he summoned Wyatt, and he had received a quick response.

“What can I help you with?”

Friendly demeanour aside, Chris still flinched at her words. It had not even been twenty-four hours since their last confrontation. He had been firmly refusing to take up their task before feeling his cousins’ panic and orbing away abruptly.

He was pretty sure that they had been watching events unfold ever since and were probably smugly congratulating themselves for convincing him to take on this duty.

He felt awkward and sheepish crawling back now, and he hated that they had gotten their way, but he tried to remind himself that some things were more important than his pride.

“The…Charmed Ones.” Chris began, still finding it odd to speak of his cousins in such a way. “They have decided to go after Quintu, but it is hard to find much information on him.” He paused, trying to suppress his memories of the creature. The last time he had seen it, it had been tearing his Aunt apart…

“I think my father came up to ask you for information last week, and I don’t think he had much luck—but the girls wanted me to come, just in case anything else has come to light.”

Sandra smiled for a moment but quickly forced a neutral expression once more as she caught sight of his annoyance.

He did not want the elders to be happy about any of this. Not even the reasonably nice elder.

It boiled his blood to think of them gloating.

“Actually,” She began with a nod. “We did discuss the matter in the council chambers and one of the others recalled a tome that spoke of similar demons.”

The woman waved her hand and a small, but ancient looking, book appeared in her arms. Even before she passed it to him he could make out the title the adorned the cover: _Daemon Originale Familiae._

Original Demon Families, he mentally translated.  

He accepted it from her with a thankful nod. Clearly, whatever they were dealing with was not some young and reckless demon. If this lead was any indication, the creature may have been amassing powers for millennia.

That did not bode well.

But, at the very least, it was good to be informed.  

“Thank you.” Chris said politely as he turned away, hoping to escape before the elder could continue their conversation.

If he was forced to come up here he could at least keep things short, he thought resolutely.

But, unfortunately, today did not seem to be his day.

“Christopher, wait.” Sandra said, clearly sensing that he was keen to orb back down. He felt her gentle hand on his shoulder for a moment and he could not supress a flinch as he turned back around to face her.

Part of him wanted to be rude and simply disappear anyway but he decided that he could wait a moment. She had been helpful, after all. And they might require more help from the elders before this battle was over. 

Once Quintu was vanquished, he could really let the elders have it.

“Yes?” He said tersely, hoping to keep the conversation brief.

The elder hesitated before continuing. “I know we did not leave things on the best of terms last night.” She began, letting out a regretful sigh. “I’m sorry if you felt ambushed- I know that it’s a lot to take in and I know that I can’t fully understand what you must be going through.” The elder paused again. “You, and your siblings and your aunt—you’re the first people in history who did not choose this life. When I died, I chose to become a whitelighter. Your father did too.”

Chris was unable to supress another flinch. Even though it was simply a fact, it still creeped him out to think of his father as dead. The man was nearly one hundred years old now, and his life had ended in a far-away war.

He was, of course, grateful that his mother had never been put off by those things (he wouldn’t exist if she had been!)

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t super weird to think about.

He especially did not like to dwell on what it meant for himself.  

The young man did his best to shrug nonchalantly. “Well, whatever.”  He remarked, hoping he sounded more relaxed than he felt. “I’m here now and I’m stuck like this, apparently. Doomed to be a freakish half-dead involuntary whitelighter.”

To his surprise, Sandra snorted with amusement and gave him a pointed look. Apparently, she found his assessment somewhat funny.  “You’re not half-dead, Chris.” She replied, still with a slight smile. “Whitelighters aren’t dead either—they are souls who have been given a new, and very much alive, form. We are no longer human, but we are not dead.”

Chris let out a small breath. That did seem to be a slightly better way to think about it—but the whole ‘not human’ thing did his head in too and it was hard to think of himself in that way. He certainly looked normal. All whitelighters did. But, he reminded himself, normal people could not dissolve into orbs of light. Not even witches could do that.

That required more than mere magic. It meant that someone was an entirely different type of being.

“Fine then.” He conceded, only somewhat comforted by the distinction she had highlighted. “I’m doomed to be a freakish _half-human_ involuntary whitelighter.”

That was a statement she could not debate.

The elder tilted her head, examining him for a moment before she spoke. “I hope you will come to see things differently one day.” She said, eliciting a skeptical snort from the young man. “As I said, I cannot fully understand what it is like for one born into this role, but even if you had not been, so much of what you do and how you are makes me think that you would have been destined for this life regardless.” She paused. “You’re a natural healer, Chris. And while you may put up a barrier sometimes, I can see how deeply you care for those around you. You are braver and have achieved more than you will ever know.”

He furrowed his brow in confusion at her last statement. Was she suggesting that he had done things that, for some reason, he could not even remember? That seemed odd, but he chose not to press it further.

“Well, if you’re done psychoanalyzing me then I should probably get back to the girls.” He stated, the book still firmly under his arm. “We need to get rid of this thing so that we can all get back to our normal lives.”

Sandra opened her mouth, a thought clearly at the tip of her tongue, but after a moment she simply nodded.

“Okay.” She agreed, offering him one last warm smile. “Be safe. And blessed be.”

Chris knew he was supposed to return the sentiment but instead he mumbled a quick “thanks” before dissolving into a column of orbs.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Even though he knew that the girls were no longer in the attic Chris decided to head there first. He wanted to do a bit of reading before they did anything else and he figured that they might want a bit of space.

He could sense that they were all back at their house now—they probably needed some time to unwind.

As he rematerialized, Chris was somewhat surprised to see that the attic was not unoccupied (he hadn’t bothered sensing for anyone else). His brother and sister were both up there and it appeared that they had been talking abut something.

When they caught sight of him, however, silence fell.

“Hey.” Chris said after an awkward pause. They were both giving him a look he couldn’t read, and he was not sure what was going on.

Thankfully, his brother smiled and Mel appeared to relax in her seat.

Chris placed the book Sandra had given him on the nearest table before Wyatt spoke.

“Hey little brother.” The blonde replied. “What’s up?”

Chris shrugged as he flopped down into the chair across from them. “You know me, always researching something.” He replied, keeping his answer vague. It had been a crazy two days, and he wasn’t really in the mood to discuss everything right now. All he really wanted was a bit of peace and quiet so that he could begin his reading.

Both of his siblings glanced at the old tome he had been holding and Mel raised an eyebrow. “Not medical research, I see.” She noted. “But I guess you’re on a different path now, huh?”

Her voice was quiet—but something about her tone suggested that she was not pleased.

Chris let out a sigh.

The last thing he needed right now was their judgement. He was way too tired and preoccupied for that and his mind raced as he tried to think of a way to quickly make his escape.

“I guess mom and dad told you.” He replied, letting out a long breath.

“Someone had to.” Mel said, the bitterness far more evident in her voice this time. Chris wasn’t sure what was upsetting her all of a sudden but clearly she did not like the situation for one reason or another.

Wyatt, thankfully, seemed calmer. Which was not really a surprise—Mel had always been far more explosive. She took after their mother in that way. It was a good thing that, unlike the older witch, she could not actually blow things up.

“Yeah, they told us.” His brother said, shooting Mel a pointed look. “Mom’s still not happy about it. Obviously.” He noted. “I think dad is pretty proud, though. But he’s trying to keep that to himself, for her sake.”

Chris snorted, recalling his interaction with his parents earlier that morning. That seemed fairly accurate.

“Things have been pretty crazy.” He admitted, chancing a glance at his sister whose arms were now folded across her chest. “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you guys myself. There was a demon attack last night and the girls needed me this morning and I was just…”

He trailed off, not really wanted to admit where he had just been.

Unfortunately, secrecy was not an option in the Halliwell household.

“Checking with the elders?” Mel finished for him, making no effort to hide her distaste.

Wyatt shot her another look.

He was accustomed to playing the peacekeeper between his two younger siblings. For some reason, Mel had always liked picking fights with Chris and he was too stubborn to back down.

It appeared that she was in one of her moods at the moment and Chris had to stop himself from directing his trademark sarcasm at her. He had never been sure why she always seemed to be jealous of him. Sure, he had more powers—but Wyatt had way more than both of them, and she got along with him brilliantly.

It probably had something to do with their time at school—Chris had always been an outstanding student and had set the bar pretty high for his little sister. But academics had never been her thing and she had developed a resentment of living in his shadow, especially during her rebellious teenage years.

They had managed to grow closer in the last few years, and he loved his sister dearly, but the tension still surfaced at times.  

Apparently, this was one of those times.

Gritting his teeth, Chris gave a curt nod. “Yup.” He replied as he watched his sister roll her eyes.

“I always knew that you were dad’s golden-boy, Chris.” The girl stated. “But I never really thought you’d actually be as lap dog for the elders.”

Chris’ eyes flashed as he felt his rage begin to boil.

She had no idea what she was talking about, and he opened his mouth to begin his retort.

Before he could, however, Wyatt jumped in.

“Come on now, we all know it’s not like that.” The twice-blessed said quickly, trying to diffuse the argument before it truly began. “I think we all need a break from this magical family stuff after what we’ve gone through over the past few weeks. Why don’t we head over to that sushi place near my school that you both wanted to try? I think it would be good for us to just relax and catch-up.”

Wyatt had begun a job teaching high school social studies that fall and the siblings had all met up for lunch nearby a few times. They had indeed discussed trying that particular restaurant soon but, as much as Chris wished that he could simply relax, he knew that this was not the time.

There was too much to do and his mind would not be able to focus.

“I’ll have to take a rain check on that.” Chris replied, glancing at the book he was keen to get started on.

As expected, his sister did not take that well.

“Figures.” He heard Mel mutter under her breath, but the young man chose to ignore it.

“Nice try, Wy.” She continued, turning to the eldest sibling. “But he always puts work ahead of everything else—first it was school, and now it’s this whitelighter crap. He clearly has his priorities.”

Chris scowled and forced himself to draw a couple of deep breaths before he replied. A few years ago, he probably would have incensed her with a verbal jab, but he really wasn’t in the mood for one of their famous blow-outs.

“That’s not it.” He said, his voice as calm as he could force it to be in his annoyed state. “I’d love to hang out next week, but today just isn’t a good day.”

Mel snorted as she stood up from her chair.

“Whatever. I’m going to the club to start unpacking yesterday’s shipment.” She glanced over at the youngest brother. “Not that you care what I do. Have fun hanging out with your favourite family members.”

Chris opened his mouth to reply but Mel quickly orbed out before he had a chance to say anything.

Quite frankly, he was relieved to see the orbs fade away. She always knew how to press his buttons and he was way too tired to deal with it at the moment. He’d mend things with her later, once she decided to stop acting like a brat.

These things always passed.

The young man slumped back in his chair before looking up at his remaining sibling. Thankfully, he and Wyatt usually got along—sure, there had been a few childhood scuffles, but there had never been the same sort of personality clash that he had with Melinda. Wy was easy-going and level-headed and the two generally worked well together.

“God, what’s gotten into her?” Chris huffed, annoyed from the short but trying interaction.

Wyatt paused thoughtfully. “You know she’s always been a bit jealous of you.” He noted with a small sigh.

Chris snorted. “What? Does she want to be the Charmed One’s whitelighter? Because I am more than happy to let her take over.”

The older man shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.” He said with a slight chuckle. Mel had never been into whitelighter stuff at all. She was a skilled potion maker and had developed her combat skills—but her only powers were orbing and astral projection so she had never been too keen on magical duties. She always seemed happy enough to let her brothers take the lead on that while she focused on helping their mother run the club. “I think, in her weird way, she’s actually just worried.” Wyatt stated. “She may be stand-offish sometimes, but she does care about all of us and she doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

There was a pause before Wyatt continued.

“Plus, I think she’s a bit miffed that it’s your job to help the cousins. It’s no secret that you and Prue get along well and I think Mel wishes you had that sort of dynamic with her, even though she doesn’t show it.”

Chris looked up at the slanted ceiling as he contemplated his brother’s words. Although her behaviour seemed to suggest otherwise, maybe he had a point. She may have felt like she was in his shadow, but she admired him too and she had followed him around constantly when they had been little. As children, Chris and Prue had often told her to go away when they were hanging out—she was younger than they were, and they had not wanted her around. In retrospect, that had probably not helped matters.

“Yeah, maybe.” Chris sighed, running a hand though his dark hair as he let out a yawn. It was only noon, but he was already feeling fairly tired. It had been an understandably restless night and he had woken up earlier than he had hoped.

“For what it’s worth, I’ll do anything I can to support you and the cousins.” His brother said, offering him a somewhat sympathetic smile. “I’m worried too.” He admitted after a moment of contemplation. “I mean, it’s not that I doubt any of your skills—it’s just a lot to take on, and I hate that the family still isn’t free of its burdens.”

Chris nodded in agreement. He shared that sentiment, as he had said multiple times the day before. 

“Are you sure you can handle this and still follow through with all of the plans you’ve made?” The older brother finished with a note of hesitation.

For a second, Chris felt annoyed by the implied doubt—but truth be told, he wasn’t entire sure of that himself. School kept him busy and he had just finished applying to some of the best medical programs in the country. He had been confident in his abilities on that front—after all, he was at the top of many of his classes and had always been a natural when it came to his studies.

But could he maintain that when he had to be available to help the Charmed Ones whenever a demon decided to attack? Would he have to miss classes and get behind? And how would he fare during his fieldwork if he had to keep orbing out? He couldn’t very well disappear in the middle of an operation if his cousins’ called…but he couldn’t leave them in danger either.

There was no doubt that it would be a challenge but he supposed he would not know how bad it would be until he gave it a go.

He was resourceful. Maybe he could figure out a way.

“I won’t know unless I try, right?” Chris replied, trying his best to stay upbeat. 

Wyatt gave him another smile. “If anyone can do it, you can.” He said with a nod. “My little bro is a genius and a badass.”

The younger man let out a quiet laugh, thankful for the vote of confidence. “Careful, Wy, or I might start getting a big ego.”

“Too late for that.” Wyatt replied playfully as he stood up from his seat.

“I’m gonna go make something to eat.” He said as he took a few steps towards the attic door. “You want anything?”

The younger brother shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.” He replied. “Too much work to do.”

Wyatt gave a small sigh. “Okay.” He conceded, clearly a little worried. “Don’t forget to take care of yourself, Chris. And if you need anything, just holler.”

Chris nodded before hopping up to grab the book he was dying to get started on. He appreciated his brother’s concern, but he knew what he was doing and, as always, he would take up his task with laser sharp focus.

“Thanks, Wy.” He said as he opened up the old tome and began to scan the index.

After one last worried glance, his brother left him in peace.


End file.
